Unknotted

Expendable Goods and a New Task

Rokan

I shoved Travers into the back of the black SUV and shut the door. He wasn’t the prisoner I had been aiming for but maybe the Ruanian could clue me in to where I should look for Topaz.

Chet was calling a wrecker to deal with the jeep she had flipped, while Tydeus explained what had happened to the owners of the diner. Without local authorities in place after the takeover of the sub-territory, we would escape long hours of questioning about the brawl and shoot out that had transpired in front of Chubby’s Burgers.

I was left with the unpleasant task of contacting our ultras with the news that Topaz had escaped again. Choosing which ultra to call wasn’t hard.

“Rokan? Did you catch her?” Glark’s deep voice sounded tight. Agitated.

“Forgive me, Ultra Glark. We weren’t the only ones who thought to stake out the target’s vehicle. A pair of enchanters had her captured when we arrived.”

“What?” He heard a thump, as though Glark had leapt to his feet. “Did they take her?”

“We managed to apprehend her instead, but it ended with gunfire. The target and her companions escaped, as did the enchanters. We also have the Ruani representative in our custody. I think he knows more about the target than we do. What would you like us to do with him?”

I let the silence stretch across the line, listening to Glark pace in the background.

“First thing you’re not going to do is go anywhere near Metallia. Do you understand me?” His voice was filled with the strength of this dominance, even without the magic to back him up.

“If that is your wish, though, whatever punishment my ultras see fit to deliver due to my failures—”

“Enough, Rokan. It’s clear we aren’t dealing with the average criminal. To blame you for not capturing her is ridiculous. Until my pragmora can see that, you will stay away from her. I will delay her interest in what transpired by telling her you have a lead you’re pursuing. Question the Ruani representative. If he won’t speak, bring him to the Den and I will do it myself. We have to handle this carefully. As of yet, Ruani’s ultras seem content to remain on their side of the ocean. The last thing we want is to entice them into a fight. We already have a two-front war on our hands. We don’t need to make it a three-front.”

I glanced back at the window. It was too dark to see through the tinted plane, but I could imagine Travers’s beaten-up face and cringed. So far, my handling of Travers hadn’t been exactly careful.

“Before you return, I need you, Tydeus, and Chet to handle another matter.”

“Whatever you need, Ultra.”

“Metallia has finished negotiations for a prisoner exchange with Namen. I want you and the others to oversee the delivery.”

I hesitated. “What about that woman who didn’t want to return? Were you able to—”

“I’m sorry, Rokan. There’s nothing I could do.”

A bitter taste filled my mouth at his lie. He could do more; he just chose not to.

“Can I count on you to do this task?” Glark asked, his voice surprisingly careful.

As if I had much of a choice. I cleared my throat and pulled any bite out of my tone. “Of course, Ultra.”

“And Rokan?” He paused. “No more slip-ups. Please.”

What should have been a threat sounded more like a plea. I couldn’t make sense of that. Something was troubling my ultra. Something had been for quite some time. Whatever the trouble was seemed to be mounting. Even the successful capture of a sub-territory had done little to bolster his mood. Maybe, like me, the way we went about fulfilling the prophecy was starting to wear him down too.

I wet my lips and dared to press him, if only to look for one last opening to convince him to save that hybrid woman from returning to Namen. “Is something the matter, Ultra?”

More silence.

“I’m just…tired, Rokan. Very tired. Call me when the delivery is complete.”

He hung up and I stared at his picture programed in with his number. It was one of the few photos I had of him, the only one of him smiling. Core Between, the disappointment aching in my chest made it hard to breath sometimes. Once, I had practically worshiped Glark. Little by little the pedestal I put him on crumbled away. What did that mean for me as his advisor and soldier?

I climbed into the backseat with Travers. “Care to tell me what you know about the woman the Broshots are after?”

Travers grimaced. “Why would I tell you anything?”

“The more you tell me, the less my ultra will need to squeeze from you.”

“I won’t do anything to help you turn her over to the Broshots.”

“And you wouldn’t do the same if you caught her?”

“No.”

My brows rose. “Not even for the advantage of the Tide Reverser?”

“You have no idea who you’re tracking, do you?”

“Other than a lunatic with impressive connections? Not really.” The leather seat creaked as I leaned toward Travers. “What is she to you? You said she belongs to you. Is that true?”

His eye that wasn’t swollen narrowed. “You claimed her too. For someone you’re planning to send to her death, you’re awfully possessive of her.”

I sat back in my seat. “I take her in, I receive the prize. That’s all.”

“It’s more than that. It’s like you can’t decide if you want to kill her or kill for her. Which are you? Her protector or her murderer?”

I held Travers’s gaze. “Right now? I’m the predator who hasn’t decided if he’s hungry or not. What I do know is that I’m growing tired of the chase.”

Travers’s swollen lips curled. “Of that we can agree, but don’t expect to catch her anytime soon. I have been chasing her for eight years. She always manages to slip me.”

“Eight years?” I released a huge breath. Even if my newest failures didn’t result in Metallia killing me, I couldn’t play this game of cat and mouse much longer without going insane.

“You play the game of chase better than me, I do admit,” Travers said.

I found my view of the hybrid shifting. Or maybe Travers was only trying to disarm me in hopes that I would let my guard down. I would allow him to think that, so long as it kept him talking.

I chuckled. “Those are big words for a dominant.”

Travers joined in the laughter, splitting his lip open again. “You think I’m a dominant?”

“Your father didn’t send his strongest child?” For some reason, I had assumed that was what an ultra would do.

“He chose me because I’m not. Sending some of my brothers or sisters has a high probability of igniting an inter-territory incident.” He averted his eyes and shook his head. “Bunch of hot-heads.”

“You play the part of dominant well then.”

Travers shrugged. “I have my moments.”

“Are you after this woman for personal reasons or professional. Maybe she owes you money?”

Travers laughed again. “She does actually.”

“You’re not going to tell me more about her, are you?”

“Why would I risk tailing you and your buddies if I had information you didn’t? Everything I knew about her isn’t relevant anymore.” He dropped his head back against the seat, his eyes falling closed. “Not like your ultras will believe me.”

“They might after they make you hurt more.”

Travers squirmed.

“Then they will likely ransom you back to your father.”

Travers grinned, lazily shaking his head, eyes still closed as if he were drifting off to sleep. “Another reason my father sent me—I’m expendable. I’ll tell you one more thing about our winged lioness. Trading her to the Broshots for a single Tide Reverser is akin to receiving the runt of the litter. She’s valuable, and I know someone who would trade much more for her. With the promise her capturers won’t hurt her.”

Chet opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Metallia called. She wants us to transport some prisoners again.”

“I know. Glark said the same.”

“Did he tell you they want to question him?” He jerked a thumb in Travers’s direction.

“Yeah. He’s talkative, just not in the helpful way.”

Travers lips twitched in the shadow of a smile.

“Metallia will start him talking,” Chet mumbled, facing forward.

My chest tightened. It already felt heavy every time I looked at Travers and saw the damage I had inflicted when I had lost control of my dominance. My chest grew even tighter at the thought of how much worse it would be for him when Metallia put her hands on him.

Tydeus climbed in, mumbling something under his breath about paperwork, and fired up the engine.

“We’re going to the holding facility.” Chet fastened his seatbelt.

“I know. Another prisoner exchange.” He glanced to the rearview mirror, his stony expression impossible to read, then hit the gas and pulled away from Chubby’s.

Beneath the rumble of the engine and Chet and Tydeus’s conversation, I whispered to Travers, “What you told me before, about being expendable. Don’t tell anyone else that. If Metallia discovers you’re not worth anything, she’ll kill you.”

Traver’s cracked his eye open only a hair, then squeezed it shut. A subtle, silent sign of acknowledgement.